Reflections from the Bus Stop, the Backyard, and the 8th Floor.

This is me. For once. 

There is something poetic about sitting on a bag on a bus stop. Last Tuesday I spent a lot of time doing that. I mastered three different bus routes and walked approximately three miles. The result was I traded in clothes at Plato's Closet and got in turn shoes (so I can stop borrowing my sister's shoes every time I need to dress up), an easter dress (with pockets!) a tank top and t-shirt (for camp). I went to Target, which was in the same shopping center, then went to a different shopping center and got groceries then walked home. Bus 9 took me to school that morning. I took bus 8 to the first shopping center and back to the depot where I got on bus 7 which took me to the next shopping center. From there I walked home.
I got to my second bus stop of the day more than ten minutes early and just sat and enjoyed the moment. The sun was on my left side and the wind was on my right. I watched the cars coming waves and a lot of them the speeding through the red lights. It was peaceful time. Listening to an awesome song.

This was from this past Wednesday. She wouldn't tell me what
we were making as we added cupfuls of dirt to the water
then we gathered sticks to drop in there then she starts with,
"Oh yes, these are looking beautiful." What were we making?
Chocolate colored pretzels. 

Moving on to the back yard. I babysit and awesome kid for the sake of discretion I will call her Amelia, she's seven. Last Wednesday I went to their house and we made soup out of water and stuff found in the yard. Amidst phrases like, "I think that flower was a good addition." and "These colors are really working." She was brainstorming how to better the soup.
Disclaimer: She loves the cooking channel. Yes she's seven.
The first issue we ran into was a more solid base. Amelia suggested, "We need chicken stock." I had to ask where she planned on getting some and she responded, "The kitchen." I didn't see her mom loving that so I suggested dirt. She bought it. In reality I was deterring from what I knew was coming. She is an incredibly creative thinker and there were two dogs walking around. You can all guess where I saw her search for chicken stock going. Then she decided we needed chicken. Once again I asked her how she thought we could represent that. She looked around and hit me with, "A bird?" Had to look really object there. We ended up with leaves. Then came the discussion of how to cook it. Of course it was going in the play house then she said we should bake it not cook it.
"Does your mom make soup in the oven?" she thought for a minute.
"Maybe not, but I know Rachel has."
I stopped to think about what her aunt's name was then had ask, "Who's Rachel?"
She looked taken aback, "You don't know Rachel Ray?!"
All I could do was laugh.

Finally the eighth floor.
This picture is my number two reason that Greensboro works for me. This is not the edge of the city. There is so much city below that tree line. I love the fact that there are so many trees and they are so big and old that the majority of the city is below them. This is what I looked at out of the window that was next to the desk that I wrote at on the 8th floor of Jackson Library. Lovely. Yes I did get the paper done. Thanks for asking.




Currently jamming to "How You Like Me Now" by The Heavy. Still working on getting that video, pardon it. : )

Victorious

“The waves are crashing down on me

But I know that this cannot be the end, be the end...

Right now I feel like copping out

Will You hold me up, if I just say

That I will stay

I will hold on to this hope that I have

You gave me a promise

I'll push through this moment, I'll never give up

You gave me a promise”

(You Gave Me a Promise - Fireflight)

Panic. 

It happens to everyone at some point in our lives. Some more than others, some significantly less.

I fall into the later category.

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of it’s own.’ 

(Matthew 6:34)

This sometimes helps me and other times not so much.

It helps me because 95% of things that trouble others just roll off my shoulder, because people freak out about things that have already happened or things that are inevitably happening. There’s not a lot you can do about either of those. It does not help me because when it happens to me it get's multiplied because the feeling of freaking out is so foreign, I freak out more.

For the past month I have been fighting with one huge panic attack.

I call it a panic “attack” with purpose. Yes, it’s a well acknowledged expression, but it is also what I believe that it is, an “attack”. There is nothing biblical or God-like about freaking out, in fact we explicitly told more than once to not freak out. Therefore, logic lends me to believe that if it the opposite of what God tells us, then it is literally an attack from the devil.

“I look out the window 

The birds are composing

Not a note is out of tune 

Or out of place

I walk to the meadow 

And stare at the flowers

Better dressed than any girl 

On her wedding day

So why do I worry?

Why do I freak out?

God knows what I need

You know what I need.” 

(Your Love is Strong - Jon Foreman)

Satan wants us to freak out. To abide in stress. Panic and stress distort or hide God.

“God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind.”

(2 Timothy 1:7)

 As I struggle with this demon of fear, I thank God that so far the only thing that has allowed peace is the reminder of His love, grace and provision. Because in reality, nothing else is strong enough to defeat to satan. In fact, it’s not something that He is strong enough to do, it’s something that he did 2000 years ago.

I have found the condolences of people, even my parents fruitless. The reason of my own head that screams that there is literally nothing I can do is muffled by Satan quietly whispering that I have failed. That I am a failure. Why do I give power to that whisper?

I once read a fictional book called Impossible. This book had absolutely nothing to do with God, but was rather based on the folk song “Scarborough Fair”. It was the story of a girl whose ancestry was just women after woman having a daughter at 18 then going insane, because a long time ago her great (x12) grandmother had refused to go with some sort of mystical creature (elf, gnome, wizard) and he had put a curse on her line. To break the curse she had to complete three impossible tasks before her baby was born. She did because she had supportive parents and a childhood friend turned boyfriend turned husband to help her. The final scene of the novel takes place in a small fishing cabin where she has her baby due to having to complete the final task. The wizard shows up anyway to take her (all of her ancestors were crazy because after they had their daughters they were forced to go with him). He makes her a deal that he will spare her daughter and husband if she comes willing and she almost agrees. Then her husband, I think his name was Zack, suddenly realizes that because the wizard is making deals the curse is already broken and he has no power over Lucy anymore. He is correct and the Wizard is forced to die, since it was the curse keeping him alive.

The whole book was entertaining to that point. At that point I was struck. Satan is defeated. We entertain him in our panic attacks when we give into them. We give him a power that is not there.

“There in the ground his body lay. 

Light of the world by darkness slain. 

Then bursting forth in glorious day, 

up from the grave He rose again. 

And as He stands in victory, 

sin’s curse has lost it’s grip on me. 

For I am His and He is mine, 

bought with precious blood of Christ.” 

(In Christ Alone - Stuart Townsend)

I have a friend who once said that she wanted to throw her fist up in the air at the triumphant victory proclaimed at the end of the song, “In Christ Alone.” The idea of victory is not often associated with God. We speak of His love, His grace, His justice, His faithfulness, but what about His victory? He is the ultimate victor. He didn’t defeat a big army, or corrupt ruler. He defeated death. We are no longer bound to it.

“When Satan tempts me to despair. 

And tells me of my guilt within.

Upward I look and see Him there, 

who made an end to all my sin.

Because a sinless savior died,

my sinful soul is counted free.

For God the just was satisfied,

to look on Him and pardon me.”


(Before the Throne -Charles Bancroft)

How do we comprehend that? We are not only pardoned, we are free. Free. We are not bound to despair. We are not bound to failure. We are not bound to panic. We are not bound to fear. We are not bound to sin. We are free.

“He has cheated

Hell and seated

Us above the fall

In desperate places

He paid our wages

One time once and for all.”

(Death in His Grave - John Mark McMillan)

Tomorrow we celebrate Easter. God could not have better timing. Tomorrow is the celebration of my freedom. Tomorrow is the day I throw my fist in the air and proclaim that God’s victory has sealed my freedom. Yesterday, today and for all eternity.

“Let no one caught in sin remain

Inside the lie of inward shame

But fix our eyes upon the cross

And run to Him who showed great love

And bled for us

Freely You've bled for us

Christ is risen from the dead

Trampling over death by death

Come awake, come awake

Come and rise up from the grave

Christ is risen from the dead

We are one with Him again

Come awake, come awake

Come and rise up from the grave

Beneath the weight of all our sin

You bowed to none but heaven's will

No scheme of hell, no scoffer's crown

No burden great can hold You down

In strength You reign

Forever let Your church proclaim

O death, where is your sting?

O hell, where is your victory?

O church, come stand in the light

The glory of God has defeated the night

O death, where is your sting?

O hell, where is your victory?

O church, come stand in the light

Our God is not dead

He's alive! He's alive!”

(Christ is Risen - Matt Maher)

A Thought

I read a quote tonight in the novel, Coming Attractions by Robin Jones Gunn. It sounds like a bad romance novel, but its not. She is one of my favorite Christian Fiction writers. Infinitely better than others in the similar genre who's initials are KK (not to offend, its just facts). It has got me thinking. I have yet to decide the fullness or emptiness of my agreement with the argument made, but I believe I like the general idea. I thought I would share it for you all to consider.

(Setting: A conversation between Katie, the main character, and Eli while driving in a car on measuring success in a relationship. I have extracted most of Katie's responses since she is the narrator and is rather subjective. What Eli is saying is the interesting part. ) 

Eli settled deeper into the passenger seat. "I'm not big on measuring things by success...I don't think many of us know how to accurately measure success," Eli said. "That's because God's ways aren't our ways, and His thoughts aren't our thoughts. So much of the kingdom of God is measured on a different scale than the one the world uses to measure value...'"

 "Love starts in the heart," Eli said. "Not just in the head. All love engages emotions...So if I love God, and I mean really love God with abandon, then I must come to love myself, my life. I need to love my story at the heart level. That's what I believe life is for all of us. A story being written by God. He is the Author and Finisher of our faith. When I start to love my story, with all its messed up twists and turns, then I can love other people who are living out their own stories with all their messed up twists and turns." 

Katie jumped in. "I've been learning to make peace with my story this past year too. Or, I guess I should say, the God is writing in my life. I have my share of messed up twists and turns."

"We all do. If we didn't, why would we need a Savior? Why would we need God's grace? And in my story, why would I need the power of forgiveness if I could simply work out my anger on my own?...Some things will never be brought to justice. At least not on a human level. That's why I said I don't hold out a case against him (man who wronged his family) anymore. If there's going to be justice, it will be measured out by God, not by me...I don't know that guy's story...if I'm going around saying I love God, then I have to trust him and believe that everything in my life first passed through his fingers. Nothing happens outside of his control. He alone will bring all things to justice one day. All I'm supposed to do is love my own story so that I can love that guy's story too."

Now there are a couple of reasons why this particular passage struck me.

One is the metaphor of my life as a story. I am a story person. I write them. I read them. I watch them. I critique them. I imagine them. Stories are a centerpiece of my life. Some of biggest revelations about the Bible have been when I sit down and think of it as one huge story.  My life as a story being written and the reference to God being "the Author and Finisher of our faith" is not a foreign concept to me, it has been in my head for a few years, but hearing it from other sources is always encouraging.

There is a movie called, The Brothers Bloom(2008).

Not a great cinematic work, in fact, I barely remember it, but what I do remember is that throughout the movie they use the terminology of story writing in reference to the cons that one brother writes. By the end of the movie this metaphor is used as a reference to their whole lives. One of, if not the last line of the film, Rachel Wiez's character tells Adrian Brody's that they are going to live like they're a part of the greatest story ever told. (Paraphrase). I remember that.

That may have been one of the first times I started to see my life as a story. It is an interesting thought.

However, the second part of Eli's (from the book excerpt) analysis is the part I think we, or at least me, being the self-centered beings we are, often forget.

Everyone around us is also in the middle of a story as well. Their story.

I think we walk around wanting everyone around us to be in the comfortable resolution part of their stories, because that makes it easy on us when we're in the middle of the action. But it doesn't work that way.

What if we encounter people in their rough spots? Or their complicated subplots? Think about a normal day in your life. Since you are the main character of your story you normally have a pretty good handle of what is going on with you. You know things like you went to the gym before work, and that at work your department is being downsized, and that when you're at the store you aren't putting something back because you don't want, you're putting it back because you only have $47 in your account, and that when you went home your kids had surprised you by making dinner. But think about the person on the treadmill next to you at the gym. They only knew that you were running on a treadmill at 6:30 in the morning. If they were nosy maybe they looked at how fast you were going. They didn't know that you're running to relive stress of the possibility of losing your job. In the same way you didn't know that they had recently gotten married and their shockingly sunny and kind of annoying attitude is as a result.

Two vastly different stories were being told on the two different treadmills, but at that intersection all they knew was that the other person wanted to workout badly enough to go at 6:30 in the morning.

Remembering that really puts a different perspective on how you treat people.

The second thing that jumped out at me comes from the section on Grace and Forgiveness and leaving the justice to God.

Currently I am in the process of re-watching the show "Burn Notice"(2007). Yes re-watching, because my first time through, I watched somewhat scattered-ly and was a little lost on the overarching story (case in point on the importance of stories to me).

As a result of this when I read the line in the book that says, "...some things will never be brought to justice. At least not on a human level.",  I thought of Burn Notice because the premise of nearly every show consists of Michael, Sam and Fiona (and in season 4 Jesse) trying to get justice for the wronged citizens of Miami. The ones that "the system" can no longer help.

Now one could argue that they are simply taking the gifts they've been given ( like the ability to adopt personas, smooth talk, create impromptu shape charges, and wield heavy artillery) and using them to help. This is true. But it was the idea behind the show that got me. This is a show about humans helping humans get justice. This show is an example of humans taking something that is God and giving it to human ability.

My mom once said that superheros comics and movies were so insanely popular because people want something to worship. People see the frailty of themselves so they create things that eliminate that weakness and then, in many cases, worship it. I see this as the same idea. Humans want justice, and fairness, but they don't want God.

Enter gun toting crusaders like Michael Weston, or the A-Team, or even all the way back to Robin Hood. They all come from the same genre and the same desire for God, without God.

I will have to do another post sometime, (as this post is three times as long as I expected) to elaborate on the idea of taking an attribute of God and worshiping it. I have done a lot of thinking about it and have piles of illustrations from the media I have watched/read/listened to over the years.

But for now, I will continue to think about my encounters with people as intersections. Brief scenes together in our own beautifully written, though sometimes insanely hard, stories.

Curveball

Close your eyes and imagine your commute. 

Maybe you are coming home from work, coming home from picking up your kids, running to the grocery store, whichever. You are in your car driving along one of the busiest streets in your area. Then you see someone walking in the median. What does this person look like? Till about a week ago you would have gotten two different options from me, either a sketchy looking crazy looking person or a runner, plugged into their iPod. That was really all I'd seen until about a week ago, well that's really all I thought of, until five days ago. 


Five days ago, I became a third category. 


Five days ago, I was in a small car accident (my fault, no injuries, too expensive to repair) that has left me car-less. You don't need the details, because they are irrelevant to this post, but when one finds oneself without a car you are left three options: take the bus, bum a ride, or walk. I have divided up my travels equally. As a result todays commuters on West Market St got to see a different kind of street walker. A college student in jeans, t-shirt, and baseball hat with a bulging shoulder bag on one side and a gallon of apple juice in the other. 


As a child I did a unit study (homeschool geek word for spending the better part of a month on learning the ins and outs of one subject) on Germany. Of the many books I looked at I remember reading in one how people in Germany do not often use supermarkets. Instead they walk to the markets daily and buy only what they need for the day because they are carrying it. I was so inspired by this. How relaxing and energizing. Another attraction for me was getting to grocery shop every day. I love grocery shopping. I don't know why. My mother and I both suspected that when I would have to start spending my money not hers it would loose the attraction. It hasn't. But I digress. Since I read that bit about Germany it has been my goal to live in a place where I can walk to the grocery store. I was in fact a tad envious when my brother and sister in law moved into town, just a few blocks from the grocery store of my hometown. Then I moved to Greensboro, and an apartment a mere mile or so from the nearest Harris Teeter. I spent the first eight months of my residence imagining that one day I would walk. Enter the problem. Cars. 


We take them for granted, yes. I know this for certain as I feel like a middle schooler again, getting picked up and dropped off by my roommate and kind friend, Katie. However, I also let my car cripple me. I am under a 30 minute walk from the grocery store. That is more than doable. But for 8 months I would chicken out at the last minute and take my car. Then I did not have a car, and I finally had no excuse not to try. I've been twice in the last 5 days.


These experiences have helped me in my journey to know Greensboro as a city and here are the pros and cons of what I've learned. 


Pro: My walk to the grocery store takes me through the most amazing old neighborhood. I now aspire to one day live in one similar. Old neighborhoods are the best. They have huge, storytelling trees, and lovely natural looking landscaping. Not to knock new developments, but God help me if I ever reside in one. They are somewhat heinous. 


Con: For all the "green" initiative my city has, it litters like nobody's business. Truly frightful in some areas. 


Pro: I can walk to everywhere essentially. 


Con: This is my latest pet peeve of large cities. It takes so long to get places after you get there. Example: It takes me about 15 to 20 minutes to walk from my apartment complex to the Friendly Center, but another 5 to ten minutes to get where I need to be in the Friendly Center and five minutes to get from the start of my complex to my building. Or it takes about 5 minutes to ride the bus from my street (3 minute walk from my house) to campus, but an extra ten minutes to get to my building. Where I'm from when you go somewhere, you get there when you arrive. You don't go to the Ingles and then have to walk (or drive) another ten minutes to get the store. 


Pro: Exercise! Not only did I walk for a good 3 miles today the last half was with 4 quarts of strawberries, on bag of lettuce, one cucumber, one bottle salad dressing, on loaf of bread, and one gallon of apple juice. Extra calories burned!
(Side note: Harris Teeter is super expensive, until there is a sale. Today I spent $18.22 with savings $14.74 on in house sales. This year to date my in house savings have been $68.67. Strawberries 4 for $5 and apple juice 2 for $3)


Con: I'm out of cons, but another Pro is I get to see a closer look at the people, houses, and nature that make up the world around me. Beautiful. 


Small digression. I have through these experiences been convicted of two small ways I judge people. One: people who get in car accidents, or more specifically people who rear-end others. Surely they must be incompetent, and maybe they are, but I have now joined the ranks. And second, anyone who is walking along streets, not exercising or headed to class, must be trouble. I became aware of this painfully as I walked along the streets and through the Friendly Center and imagined what I would think if I saw me from my car. Two things to think about. 


In the end, I am reminded of a quote from one of my favorite quirky movies: Extreme Days(2001), at the end of this movie the narrator, Will, says, "When God throws a curveball, don't duck, you just might miss something." That always stuck with me and its times like this that remind me why. Losing your freedom of transportation is a curveball for sure and I am doing my best to not duck or run the other direction, but rather adjust my position to hit it head on and keep on playing the game. 

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." 

-James 1:2-4

Take it All Away

You have to listen to the song. Before, after or during your reading of the post. If you can't listen then mute it and read the lyrics.

dear Effect,

you are so disproportionate 

you snuck up behind me,

you stabbed my back.

you haunt my quiet.

you overthrow peace.

lightly I speak, heavy my heart.

 I scream in silence 

I don’t want the sympathy

I don’t need them to understand

I just want this demon out of me

I am in a cage, scratching to get out.

poison escapes my eyes

oxygen is trapped in my lungs

my eyes are dry, my soul 

screams out

you are begging me to roll over

enticing me to let lie

but I see through your fake eyes

I am frantically mustering

searching the deep

crying out with 

gut wrenching

take it all away

you will entreat

I will refuse

you have died

sincerely,

____________

This is significantly darker than the last several post. But is a real emotion with a song that Jesus has put in my heart for weeks in advance, for this purpose. This is my reminder of a refusal to submit to darkness, because all I need to do is cry out.

 I debated whether or not to post this, but ultimately decided that public posting would help keep me accountable to the manifesto in the last three lines of the poem, and maybe Jesus can use it to help others in a struggle. 

Oh Happy Day (ahem-night...er...morning?)

Alright, so the vague time of day is not the important part of the title, the HAPPY part is. I feel so happy and free right now here is some of the possible reasons why.

"Cause I'm free to dance (forget about your two left feet) and
I'm free to sing (even joyful noise is music to thee)  and
I'm free to laugh (cause He's given me His love and it's made
me Free."

1) For all of you who went to or are going to college for any stretch of time, you know that at some point you look back on a semester and say, "What was I thinking during registration?". This is that semester for me. Surprisingly though it is not the five straight days of 8AM classes that I have issue with, it is the three 300 level English classes. Now I am an English major and thought surely, I can do three of these classes. I had three the semester before and was fine. Here is the critical part - I chose three classes that I have no real vested interest in. I am a creative writing person. As much as I may enjoy the lectures and actual class time of classic literature and/or critical theory classes, I will not like the work. So needless to say this semester has been a slump and tonight I finished a six page rough draft of my biggest paper. A research paper. Even more the bane of my English studying existence. I will argue with some people till the cows come home (you know who you are) but if I have to objectively craft and argument with support from scholarly resources, its just not fun. I can form opinions, but I don't want to have to search and find other people to support them if I don't actually care about the topic in the first place. And for me finishing the rough draft is akin to finishing the paper, because we have a peer workshop and hopefully a teacher conference to help me work through the details, I have the argument. I kid you not, as soon as I finished that conclusion I felt ten pounds lighter. I'm not a stresser, but depressing things like papers do tend to rain on your parade of carefreeness. No more! I think in my head I have equated finishing this paper with finishing the school year. And it is sweet.

One year. I'm counting.

2) I met with my advisor and got to see how incredibly close I am to graduating. At the end of this semester I will have 30 hours. At the end of next semester I will have completed the requirements for my major (aside from my final level of Spanish). And many thanks to the wisdom of my kind teacher (yes, the one who assigned the research paper - she's a good teacher, its not her fault I hate research papers) I am taking classes I am almost all excited about or interested in. Culture of Baseball anyone? (Yeah that's a class - and one that will fill 3 of my required 36 hours at a 300 level)

3) I get to work a weekend retreat at my beloved camp this weekend. It will be my fourth consecutive time working this same retreat. I love it. (check this link to read about my experience last time)

4) Jesus loves me, this I know. For the bible tells me so. Little ones to Him belong. They are weak, but He is strong.

Dear Wonder,

A friend of mine once wrote -

" I would like to hold myself accountable to keep changing. To keep looking at the stars and being amazed. To love God and His people. To remember that whatever I may be going through that the Creator of the seasons and the Author of these thoughts knows exactly what He is doing."

I love this. My favorite part is "hold myself accountable...to keep looking at the stars and being amazed." When was the last time you did that?

I believe in wonder. People are so easy to loose it. To stop looking at the stars. To stop feeling the breeze, to stop looking at the world around them and wonder and it's beauty. Even in the middle of Greensboro, my city full of ghetto, gangs, trafficking, and the 2nd worst allergies in the nation, there is things to find wonder-full. God is my biggest one. 

I wonder at God. God who gives so much. God who loves me, when I continually screw up. I just spent the ten minute car ride home in a mixture of sobbing and laughing because I was so overwhelmed with the generosity of the family I work for and the Grace of God that my job is doing something that I absolutely adore. Why in the heck do I get to do that? Why am I so blessed?

Tonight, after the kids went to bed, I was channel surfing. I landed on AMC where Independence Day was playing. I watched Bill Pullman's President character give his speech to the pilots about to go up to fight the massive space ship in that speech he spoke about fighting for their right to live. 

Since when did we have a right to anything? What in the world have I done to deserve the life I have been given? I'll tell you - nothing. I know how to work with kids. That is a gift God gave me and I delight in it. I get paid very generously - and it blows my socks off every time they hand me the check. The grace of God boggles my mind. 

We have become a people who look for what we deserve. As many times as I may think I would do my job without the pay check I think a couple weeks in I would be looking for compensation of some sort. Even as I do my job, I expect the families to be okay with me eating their food, because I am watching their kids instead of cooking for me and I deserve to eat. It is my "right" as a human being to eat. 

This writing is either ill-timed or perfectly-timed at Christmastime. Around this time of year, people are more likely to take account of what they have. At the same time, they just as likely to be looking for they deserve (being with family, presents under the tree, time off work, bonus checks). 


I watched Charlie Brown Christmas last night and actually paid attention to the words they spoke for the first time. Charlie's little sister at one point says plainly of her list to Santa, "I'm just looking for what I deserve, I'm looking for what's coming to me." 

You know what was coming to you child? Death. Chew on that. 

The wise, blanket toting member of Chuck's gang brought the whole episode together by quoting the story of Jesus. However, people ( yeah including me)  get hung up on the manger, the wise men and the whole prophecies thing. We don't get hung up on the simple fact that He came. My verse for the Christmas season is not from Matthew, Luke of Isaiah, it is from 1 John 4:9 

"By this the love of God was manifested in us, that God has sent His only begotten Son into the world so that we might live through Him."

I have had "love manifested life" written in sharpie on the inside of my arm for the past two days and plan to keep it there for the rest of the season, because I want it to remind me that because of Christmas I have life. I don't have it because I wasn't aborted. I don't have it because my parents had mutual friends in college. I don't have it because my grandmother walked into the SUP store at U of Alabama in time to hear my grandfather give a speech. I don't have it because my ancestor escaped Prussia before freaking Fredrick the Great could kill him. I don't have it because it is my right. I have it because 2000 some years ago the love of God was manifested in us by coming into the world so that we can have life. Every year I am reminded of this, and every year despite my failure to hold on to it, it rings true. That is a testimony in and of itself. 

This is Christmastime, I am overwhelmed by Grace given me through my employers who as far as I can tell have not even bothered to explain to their six year old that some people believe in a thing called God. Every day is given and here as a result of what we celebrate on Christmas. Love. Manifested. Life. 

Therefore I challenge myself to keep walking forward, to keep searching and getting to know the God that knows my everything and still showers me with amazing grace. I want to wake up in the morning and thank Him. I want to lie down at night and bless Him. I want to merge onto 1-40 west and sing His praise from every ounce of my being, because I can. Not because it is my right, but because it is His gift. 

Thank you Jesus. You rock my world. 

Click this link to my latest theme song - for the purposes of this post, I want to highlight the bridge.

"You Are More" by Tenth Avenue North

Dear Family, You Make Me Laugh.

As the holiday season snowballs in, I begin to miss my family more and more. They support me, listen to me, talk with me, hug me, and most them our OCD about handing me tissues when I cry, but what I really miss around the holidays are the laughs. It has been said more than once that my family could be a successful and entertaining sitcom. So I have endeavored over time to jot down some of the things that come out of their mouths. Some may seem lame to you, but if you know my family you can imagine the delivery. I thought I would share some of these "insights" into life as a member of the Gray Family with my seven followers. So for you enjoyment, I present - the words of the Family De Grau.

Dad: (On the low amount we were reimbursed by our aunt for the co-op order that included 30 ibs of organic raisins) "What? They only took two pounds of rasins?  You need to start telling Mark (Uncle) he looks constipated."


Gigi: (on arrival) "Bo you're an idiot."
Dad: "Why Mom?"
Gigi: "No special reason."

Me: "I mean, she's the oldest, you're the baby, she's the mother, she's creative, he's the boy...I mean what am I?"
Sarah: "Aw, Peige...I don't know...give me a second to think about it."



Bo: "What? You don't believe in standing out as White Anglo Saxons?"
Charissa (matter of fact): "I'm black."


"Sarah and I decided what to call you (ladies at the church)...you are the W.A.M's or the W.A.M Jr.'s. Women Accepting Menopause or the Women Approaching Menopause. And we are Y.A.M's. Yougin's Admiring Men."


-Charissa Reed Gray (1.31.09)


---Family Conversation on a Christian fiction writer's books---

(More specifically her Family Drama series) 

"At least she doesn't have to worry about characterization, because all her books are about the same people."

-Sarah Ann Gray (1.31.09)



(More specifically on the similarity of Characters)

"Names changed to protect the idiots."

-Deborah Lynn Gray (1.31.09)

-------------End-----------

"Who would have thought the Paul Newman would be so successful at selling salad dressing?"

-Robert Andrew Gray (4.14.08)


"You're ruining my life...but thanks for driving"
-Sarah Ann Gray (4.26.08)



"Nobody can clean a peanut butter jar like me."
-Robert Irvin Gray Jr. (4.27.08)



(sigh)

"Andrew ate the cheese."
-Robert Irvin Gray Jr. (05.03.08)



"Dear Lord, Thank you for my doughnuts and the nieces who provided them, I think I love them more."
-Catherine Jean Draeger Menendez (5.11.08)



"Today I made a new aspiration that I hope to one day have a quote on your wall...I’m really moving home for that express purpose."


-Charissa Reed Gray (6.25.08)



"Okay so this five dollar bill is bothering me...I'll give it to the church."


-Sara Anne Grey (7.23.08)


"We really shouldn't release me on another country."


-Lydia Lynn Gray (8.26.08)



"This morning I woke up and couldn't remember what country I was in."


-Lydia Lynn Gray (12.19.08)





"I have to get in the shower before Charissa gets home or she'll steal it from me. So if I hear the door open I'm running for the bathroom and I've been there all along. Okay?"


-Sara Anne Grey (10.09.2008) 




"75% of my conversation today has been about my tissues."


-Charissa Reed Gray (11.15.08)




(To my 88 year old Grandmother) "Hey Happy Birthday! You're old as crap."


-Robert Andrew Gray (1.23.09)




"Don't take anything at face value. Take it all with a grain of salt, and some pepper for added flavor."


-Lydia Lynn Gray (1.5.09)




"When Bo starts to talk, then I will go into Sunday School, because it will be long."


-My 3 yr old adopted nephew on whether he will go to sunday school or stay with his parents in "big church" which my father, Bo, happens to pastor.






"Your father would die without an audience."


-My Mother




---Family Conversation on Towel Laundering---



“Now girls I want you to pick one day a week to be your towel day.”


-Deborah Lynn Gray (1.21.09)



“That’s right girls, all the other day’s of the week. You’ll just have to shake dry.”


-Robert Irvin Gray Jr. (1.21.09)

------------End-----------


"When you have teeth link mine it's easy to get your teeth cleaned, you just go to the dentist, take them out and hand them over."
-Gigi


"Coffee is a catalyst for the Holy Spirit"
-Pamela Gray



Lydia:  nice picture. glenn and i will make sure to model our marriage on yours. we will start working on diving over one another's heads and we can compete over christmas.
Pam: Don't put too much pressure on yourselves. It's all about the technique- takes a lot of time and practice.


I am now officially up way too late and when I post this and share the link on facebook most of you will get it in the morning as you check your accounts. I will end with this. My family (Gigi, Bo, Debbie, Cathy, Mark, Pam, Liz,  Drew, Glenn, Chris, Lyd, and Sarah and so many others)  bless my socks off every single time I see a glimpse of their faces or hear their voices (as is the case most recently) and I cannot express how much they mean to me. Hopefully with this collage  voices, you will appreciate them more. I end with an entreaty to each of you. No matter what you have felt in the past about your family, this holiday go looking for those quirks, those sitcom ready moments that make you laugh and fall in love all over again with the God given concept of family, whether it be the one you're born into or the one who adopted you (literally or spiritually) family is a gift, never forget it. 

To My "Group" in British Literature: Romantic to Modern

We came into the class not knowing each other at all. I remember walking into class, I'm not sure if it was the first or second day of class, after hiking up all 6 flights of stairs to get to the fourth floor (yeah 72 stairs up and down with a 15 pound backpack every Tuesday and Thursday - its good times), I saw this girl sitting in "my row" of any classroom.

My row is the back row on the left side. I sit in the back because I like to look at people and know where they are. I don't like having my back to them. Maybe its deep rooted trust issues, maybe its deep rooted self esteem, maybe I've watched too much Alias, I'll never know, nor do I really care. I just do it. The whole sitting on the left side thing I have no clue about, I just noticed it. (I tend to sit on the left side in church too - go figure).

 Anyway this girl's name was Callie I would later find out and before class commenced another girl sat down on the row too, and ate an apple. This was unusual. This was my last first class for my first semester at University of North Carolina at Greensboro, and I had yet to find the back row so popular.

The apple eater I soon discovered was named Ally. Yes, Callie and Ally. I think the teacher just got them straight last week, if they "switched names" on her though I don't think she'd notice. In her defense, she has a lot of students in that class alone.

Later on Amanda joined our group, with her newspaper. Yes again, Amanda sits in class and reads the paper, but I swear she can put it down and be (or sound like) the most well versed person in the class. Its a skill.

So there we are in the back. Amanda, Priscilla, Callie, and Ally, and let me tell you, we have some good times, mostly because the Good Lord gave each and everyone of us a dry sense of humor.

Let me tell you about this class. Its British Lit. I love the poems, and novels, the essays not so much. Its rare I read and comprehend those. Callie tends to not put much into concentrating on any reading, Ally seems to be somewhere in-between, but spends time putting mini post it bookmarks at each reading with the date and color coded to the section, so she looks super impressive. Amanda will read or not read, but she always reads the paper and always sounds intimidating so you can't ever tell.

I love these girls. I love that we sit in our corner in the back of the classroom offering Amanda and I's occasional insight to the conversation and do our own "thing".

As previously stated Amanda has a newspaper, I doodle house blueprints or list names (today Callie and I had a competition to think of the most names of one letter - I missed some really obvious ones like Dylan or Dwight! I mean come on). Callie organizes her planner and doodles everything and anything all over her notes. Ally eats her Granny Smith apple. Like clockwork.

If we are supposed to split up in groups of three to four, we've got it covered immediately. Inevitably Amanda and I will get into a debate, Ally will pull out her over organized anthology and Callie will tell everyone to shut up and get out of the group (while she's smiling - real hardcore I know). This class is one of my favorites for three reasons and they are as follows:

1) We get to read fun literature and learn about - I'm an English Major
2) I love the teacher and her style and approachability
3) Amanda, Callie, and Ally

Thanks you three, for invading my back row and being my friends. You make me laugh every Tuesday and Thursday for the hour and 15 minutes at the end of the day. 'Precsh.